strategic numbness

It takes a certain skill to self-sabotage yourself. If this first sentence has slightly eluded you, or you have to question if you’ve ever self-sabotaged yourself, then you haven’t an idea how this works. Very few people have self-sabotaged themselves. It’s a rare technique because it involves elaborate planning with no failure, and very few people can execute such a masterpiece. This is not depression. This is not insanity. In fact, it is actually the opposite. This is the absence of everything you are. This is an elaborate scheme that is decided in a blink of an eye. It’s the breaking point between then and now.

Have you ever felt so perpetually misunderstood that at one point, you decided it was no longer your effort? You still live your life but you don’t expect anyone to stay, you expect all of them to go. There’s this sort of sad acceptance. And then, then you meet somebody that changes that around, and you find that they naturally understand you and they shift your whole perspective. You feel the connection, you see the importance of the relationship, you emotionally invest all your time in this person.

And then one day, it happens all fucking over again. It’s the same shit. This person misunderstands you. And that’s that. That person was the last straw. You’ve been so fucking misunderstood your whole life that you decide you never want to feel this way again. You always let people make you feel the way you did, but now it’s time to take it into your own hands. You’re now the manager of how you will feel. No one will no longer affect you. You’re done. You’re done being mindful of others, accepting of others. You’re done being a good person. You’re done with all people. The world is beautiful, emotional, meaningful, and it’s fucking shit. You make your world collapse and you never want to rebuild it. You erase it all.

Here’s the thing: Self-sabotagers are master manipulators. But no, they would never dare hurt you. They’ll only destroy themselves. There’s a sort of trickery. You remain the same on the outside, but you change everything on the inside. They don’t know you’ve sabotaged myself. It’s the lack of substance. You simplify it into nothing. The color red is just the color red. It no longer reminds you of its symbol in China, you no longer feel passion, you no longer remember it’s your best friend’s favorite color. Singing becomes an act lung breathwork instead of unfolding a story, instead of feeling the serenity, instead of the sound of your heart.

Have you ever killed yourself in order to not care?

Has your laughter ever felt silent? Have your hands ever turned to stone? Have your eyes ever lacked an ability to look at someone else’s perspective? Have you ever been quick to judge? Have you ever created chaos and perpetuated the conflict? Has insensitivity ever run through your veins? Have you ever dated somebody just for the sake of dating somebody? Have you ever replaced your real heart with a homemade robotic heart? It looks the same, it functions the same, and that’s all you want.

The dark side of intelligence is being able to effortlessly, and without mistakes, create a whole new identity that infiltrates you with emptiness but that no one knows. The dark side of intelligence is that you know how to be happy, all the steps to get there, but you stay here instead. It’s better here in the real world. You create a new life where absolutely nothing matters. Hope was here and is never coming back. You begin to love the meaningless and senseless aspect of grabbing dinner, talking to people you don’t care about. Your range of goals has narrowed down to only objective achievements. It’s all about productivity. You become the society you once hated.

But there’s a secret to this all. Self-sabotagers once had a big heart.

Once, you believed in love, before all the people abandoned you, before all the people neglected your existence. Once, your intelligence prevented you from conforming. That’s why you were always too smart for rock bottom. You never let people’s judgment get the best of you. Once, you cared too much. You cared too much because once you wanted recognition.

Do you know what emotional anger feels like?

Have you felt dark?

Have you ever loved it?

How long have you felt like this? A few months? I’ll tell you something right now. You’ll be here for a while, you wouldn’t let yourself get away with this so easily.

Well done. That artistic mind of yours really came in handy. Welcome to your own con-artist. It’s the only love you have.

You don’t care because you won’t care. Careful there, you’re playing a dangerous game with yourself. At one point, it’s not that you don’t care anymore, it’s because you can’t care at all.

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